A Natural End
by Wilusa
Summary: One fan's guess, on a very sad day, at what a TRUE 'natural end' might be like. One of many possibilities!


DISCLAIMER: Carnivale and its canon characters are the property of HBO and the show's producers; no copyright infringement is intended.

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"No. No!" Samson felt the blood drain from his face as he grasped the implications of the plan Ben Hawkins had outlined. As he realized why he'd been brought to this terrifying place. "You two are like my own children. I ain't gonna kill you!"

"No one's askin' you to kill us," Ben said gently. "Hell, we ain't even askin' _each other_. We're each gonna kill ourselves. You just gotta take care o' things after that."

Samson looked from Ben to Sofie, and saw the same quiet determination in both.

Trembling, he had to lean heavily on his cane. "But...but...Christ, this is your weddin' day!"

Sofie said, "We got married _because_ time is running out."

"You ain't even..."

"Consummated it?" She smiled. "In a sense, we did. Once. Long ago."

Ben said, "My _first_ wife died on our weddin' day, throwin' herself in the path of a bullet Crowe's henchman meant for me." His voice was steely now. "_This_ marriage is gonna end on _my_ terms. Sofie's an' mine - we decided it together."

Samson shuddered at the memory of that other wedding day and its aftermath. Weeks had passed before the carnies had dared trust the despairing Ben not to take his own life.

"Gabriel still needs you," he told Ben, "just like he did then."

"No, he don't, Samson," the younger man said kindly. "The one he needs is _you_. Remember that when we're gone."

"I may not get outta here alive."

"You will. There are patrols still sweepin' the place, lookin' for protesters an' gettin' them clear. You ain't gonna be fried by no atom bomb." Ben extended his hand. "Goodbye, Samson."

Taking it, Samson choked out the words, "Goodbye..._kid_."

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Five minutes later, shots rang out.

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Samson was still grieving over the bloodied bodies when he heard footsteps come up behind him. He turned, slowly, to see a cassock-clad Justin Crowe.

Crowe looked down at Ben and Sofie, and smirked. "They really believed peaceful protesters could stop this test? Dumber than I thought. What happened, did the military get sick of hauling intruders away, and take to shooting them?"

Samson shrugged.

Crowe, of course, could wander at will, whether the military opened fire or not. As the Usher of Destruction, he could only be killed by a bladed weapon "infused with Avataric blood" - in other words, one that had already killed another Avatar. Ben had lost the one such weapon he'd ever had. It had been left behind in the cornfield on the long-ago occasion when he _had_ killed Crowe, and a misguided Sofie brought him back to life.

Samson understood that Crowe, despite his casual demeanor, wasn't any happier about the test itself than Ben had been. But their reasons were very different. Ben had been anguished at the prospect of millions being killed by this new weapon. All Crowe cared about was that humans had acquired the power to destroy _themselves_ - or choose not to - without Avatars helping them along.

The Usher was plotting a monstrous revenge. If he had his way, Samson knew, humanity wouldn't survive long enough to decide its own destiny.

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And Ben and Sofie were dead. Ben might have been the last-born Avatar, Sofie the last of a line; but Justin Crowe was the last _survivor_. He was visibly gloating over that. _Never mind that Sofie was his daughter_, Samson thought in disgust_. He don't give a shit for her._

As Crowe stooped to examine the bodies, Samson blurted out, "Don't you touch them!" His outburst ended in an undignified sob.

Crowe turned to him. Samson heard the sneer in his voice as he said, "Am I upsetting you, little man?" He bent over the dwarf to get a look at his tears.

And that was when Samson whipped out the weapon that had actually killed Ben and Sofie, before he'd riddled their bodies with bullets.

_Oh yeah. Only saw that chest o' his once, years ago - but the memory's burned in my brain, like Hawkins said it would be. Even with the cassock on him, I can picture right where to strike. "Where branches meet"..._

Before Crowe could react to his glimpse of the weapon, it was buried in his chest.

"Plunge...thee...deep!"

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And thus did the Usher of Destruction meet his own destruction.

Skewered by the little man's sword cane.

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The End

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_**Author's Afterword:**_ This short fic was written in haste - and in anger - on the day fans learned _Carnivale_ had been canceled. We'd read that HBO exec Carolyn Strauss had said the story had reached a point that could be "a natural end." In fact, the supposed quote was a paraphrase; there's no reason to think she said, or believed, any such thing.

Re the content of my fic: The public was not, of course, aware the Trinity test was taking place. While I couldn't work an explanation into a piece this short, my intent was that the protesters were deeply religious pacifists whom Ben and Sofie had recruited. The Avatars had warned them that they'd be taken into custody, and might be held incommunicado for a very long time.

I still believe a detail as unusual as Samson's carrying a sword cane wouldn't have been established - or at least, in good drama, _shouldn't_ have been established - unless it was meant to be crucial at some point in the series. But I have no way of knowing Daniel Knauf's thoughts on the matter!


End file.
